


2020 Secret Santa Fic (aka Ginger Baes)

by papersky_pencilstars



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Bad Puns, Fluff, M/M, Secret Santa, gingerbread baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papersky_pencilstars/pseuds/papersky_pencilstars
Summary: OTP fluff for wereinadell over on tumblr as part of the 2020 secret santa gift exchange. Silly fun to write, I hope it can bring a smile to people's faces :)(title in progress lol)
Relationships: Edward "Babe" Heffron/Eugene Roe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	2020 Secret Santa Fic (aka Ginger Baes)

**Author's Note:**

> The blast of air that greets him as he opens the apartment door is wonderfully warm, and smells of warm butter and sugar melting together, Gene pauses for a moment, smiling. Sounds come from the kitchen, the clink of metal on glass, the whistle of the electric kettle, and he can hear Babe’s absent-minded, slightly off-key humming. He hangs up his coat and scarf, places his boots underneath the radiator so they dry, and pads down the hall to the kitchen. Babe’s standing with his back to the door bent over a mixing bowl, he’s so engrossed in whatever he’s doing he doesn’t register Gene’s presence until Gene slides his arms around him from behind, hooking his chin over Babe’s shoulder and poking his nose into the base of his jaw. As anticipated, Babe squeaks and tries to jump away from the unexpected icy shock on his neck.  
“Whatcha doing?” Gene asks, leaning more heavily against Babe’s back so he has to tilt against the counter to brace both of them.  
“Making gingerbread. You’re freezing, did you walk all the way from work?,” He turns in Gene’s arms and draws him in closer, bending to kiss the top of his head only to stop and pull back frowning at the melting snow flakes in Gene’s hair. “Don’t tell me you forgot your hat again.”  
Gene ruefully touches a hand to his hair, “It was sunny when I went out this morning.”  
“Blue sky means colder,” Babe tells him sternly, “what did we say about never going out without a hat, bayou boy? Here,” the kettle beeps that it’s done and he leans over to fill two mugs that are sitting ready in the counter then shoves one into Gene’s hands, “get warm. How was your day?”  
Gene holds the tea close to his face, letting the fragrant steam smelling of orange peel and cinnamon curl around his face, “It was alright, things are getting hectic before the holidays as usual. We had a patient come in who fell off the roof putting up a plastic reindeer.”  
Babe snorts, then quickly claps a hand over his mouth looking horrified at himself, “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just almost too stereotypical.”  
Gene offers a sly grin, “Don’t worry, he landed in a hedge and just sprained his arm a bit, he’s fine. Nice guy - he was laughing too.” He leans over, sorting through the jars of spices as Babe scoops flour from the bag and starts sifting it on top of the creamed butter and molasses.  
“Heffron,” Gene pauses suddenly, “what’s this?”  
Babe glances at the spice jar Gene’s holding in his hand and grins, “I thought they made you learn to read before you graduated medical school. It’s black pepper.”  
“Black pepper,” Gene says, delicately placing the jar on the counter as if it might explode, “does not belong in gingerbread.”  
“Sure it does.” Babe grabs the nearest spice jar and pauses, frowning, “We still don’t have any measuring spoons do we? Guess winging it won’t be too bad.”  
“You know what belongs in gingerbread, Babe? Ginger,” Gene counts off on his fingers as Babe carefully taps spices onto the flour, “cinnamon - feel free to add a bit extra of that by the way - nutmeg, and I’ll even make an exception for cloves. But pepper?”  
“Don’t knock it ’till you try it. We had an old lady on our street growing up, and she used to make gingerbread for the whole street. She was from somewhere up north - Sweden I think - and she always added just a pinch of black pepper. Best cookies you’ll ever have.”  
Gene’s expression remains skeptical as he watches Babe mix together the cookie dough, but he scoots off the counter readily enough to give them room to roll the dough out. Babe dips his finger in the pile of flour he has ready for sprinkling and dots flour on the tip of Gene’s nose before he can duck away.  
“Much better,” he says, grinning as Gene swipes at the offending spot, “it was looking a little red.” They roll out the dough and start cutting shapes out. After the second attempt where a gingerbread man lands on the kitchen tiles Gene takes over transferring them to the baking tray.  
“Look, this one’s a little squished together.”  
“That can be you.”  
“Just for that I’m making a you. A ginger Babe for a ginger babe.” Babe groans, pulling Gene towards him and pressing their cheeks together as Gene laughs at his own joke.  
Gene hums contentedly leaning into the touch, “You still love me when I make bad puns, right?”  
“Especially then.” Babe kisses him, even though they’re both smiling too hard for it to really work.


End file.
